


Building From the Bottom Up

by booksindalibrary



Series: KHR One Shots & Works [9]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Backstory, Gen, One Shot, Survival, basically how Hibari became Hibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:22:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksindalibrary/pseuds/booksindalibrary
Summary: Hibari Kyouya wasn't going to let something as small as abandonment keep him down.





	Building From the Bottom Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Almighty_Carrots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almighty_Carrots/gifts).



 

Hibari Kyouya stared after his parents in silence, half expecting them to turn around. It wasn't to be; the shape of his mother never wavered, the silhouette of his father never faltered. It should've rained that day, but it was overcast. Rain would've suited this day, but then again, Hibari wasn't all that bothered by it.

And that was when, at the age eight, Hibari was abandoned at the Namimori Shrine. He had been told, in no uncertain terms, that he was a freak and he could never be around them.

Normal boys don't crush rocks with their hands or pick fights with anyone. Normal boys don't want to train for hours on end, letting it consume them. Normal boys behaved...normally, and he wasn't that, apparently. The others didn't seem to understand that this concept they held of _normal_ was their own invention. Hibari didn't, _refused_ to subscribe to that school of thought. He was Hibari Kyouya, and he would not change for anyone.

So what if that stubbornness lead to this day? Fine, whatever. He could deal with it. Hibari turned and examined the shrine, which he assumed was now his new home. Where to get food, how to sleep, how to survive?

He could hunt, he supposed, because he didn't have any money to buy anything with. And the shrine was big enough to sleep in. he would survive, and then years on he could stroll on up to his parents and laugh in their faces.

Well, not laugh, because he doesn't laugh, but the general idea was correct.

“Hello,” he greeted the birds on the trees. “I'm your new neighbour.”

They seemed to answer in song, and that satisfied him. Yes, _they_ didn't ignore him.

“I'll bite you to death,” he said to the sky. He loved that phrase, and promised himself he wouldn't let it go.

* * *

By the time he was ten he was entirely self-sufficient.

The offerings left at the shrine were eaten by him, mainly because he figured, gods don't exist, and it's just going to waste otherwise. Everything was peaceful, and he had a routine. It was all fine-

“I'll bite you to death,” he hissed at a boy who trespassed. Said boy looked up, startled, then gaped openly. Hibari was lounging in a tree, glaring down at him.

“I'm Kusakabe Tetsuya,” the boy said, recovering.

Hibari snarled down at him, “I don't care. Stop crowding the place, herbivore.”

“Herbi...what now?”

“Herbivore.” Hibari snorted contemptuously, then jumped down from the tree. “Why are you here? No one ever comes here.” Mainly because he beat the non-worshippers away, but saying so would defeat the argument.

“I'm new to Namimori,” Kusakabe said. “I didn't know-” He cut himself as he looked at the rags, at how skinyn he was. “Um, what's your name?”

Hibari wondered if he should answer. He was vaguely aware that his family was 'prominent', but what effect mentioning it would have on him he didn't know.

“Hibari Kyoya,” he said to test the waters. Kusakabe's eyes widened.

“Really? But I was told you were dead.”

“Hn. I don't feel dead.”

Kusakabe was still gaping at Hibari. “But, that's not-”

“Stop crowding the place,” Hibari ordered, pointing. “Leave, or I'll bite you to death.” He loved the way that sounded.

Kusakabe seemed crestfallen, then turned and ran away. He was the first person Hibari had talked to coherently for two years, and it served to remind Hibari that he really, really, didn't like people.

* * *

His siblings were probably happy, Hibari mused at the age of eleven. He was perched high in a tree, observing the ants that were people with boredom. Did they miss him? Did they ever think of their violent, disciplined older brother?

Probably not, and he didn't blame them. It meant the house would be less crowded.

Kusakabe visited once a month, bringing confectionery with him. Hibari accepted them as appeasement.

This time however, Hibari said, “Bring me books.”

Kusakabe smiled slightly and said, “What sort?”

“War.”

Kusakabe blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, okay then?” And true to his word he did, although he mentioned that he had to ask the librarian for help.

“I don't care,” was Hibari's response.

Kusakabe blinked, and shrugged it away. Hibari Kyouya was a strange one.

* * *

Hibari fell sick one day, and Kusakabe wasn't to visit for another week. The fever made him groggy, and he had to haul himself to the shrine, staggering and collapsing and struggling to get up again. Was this it? Was this the end?

He denied it, even as he doubled over, retching. The world was spinning, he thought giddily, falling into a corner of the shrine. He dragged the rags he called blankets over himself, shivering. His body kept flipping between hot and cold, and he was so hungry but didn't have any food to eat.

All he could do was sleep.

And when he woke, he felt worse. So he shoved off the blankets, standing, head brushing against a low hanging beam. That beam had no right, none at all to be there. He fell forwards, then caught himself against the wall.

“Damn,” he said, surprised by the curse. He shouldn't, it could disturb the birds.

He stumbled outside, over to where he had a secret pocket of food under the veranda. His fingers could barely grasp the edge of the wood, until he finally, finally, managed to get the food. A few slices of bread, a bottle of water, some canned food, and a candy bar Kusakabe had brought over. He patted his chest, feeling the familiar crinkle of paper. Good, he still had it.

Hibari nibbled on a slice of bread, unable to take any more. He wanted rice, and natto, and a big bowl of miso soup. He wanted to wear a proper kimono, and actually _feel_ Japanese, not like a foreigner in this shrine.

He took a few gulps of water, then lay on his back, shivering again. He was sweating, and he knew he was going to stink again. This was why he hated people. They cried about their sickness and stank to heaven, and always complained and relied on others. They had no strength. But Hibari was strong, and he wanted someone else that was just as strong as he was.

Hibari pulled out the paper, gazing at the image. Three children, the eldest boy holding onto the twins, a boy and a girl. The twins, barely three, were beaming, and the eldest boy was somber.

“Herbivores,” he slurred out. He couldn't focus on their faces, and he put the photo back in its little sleeve in his shirt. Herbivores, maybe, but he had to survive so he could see them again.

* * *

He spent the next week trying to behave normally, and succeeding for the most part. He ignored all sickness. He wasn't sick, he told himself as he scaled a tree. He wasn't ill, he chanted as went to sleep at night. It worked. Soon he forgot why he couldn't walk in a straight line and why he couldn't seem to keep a stable temperature.

“Hibari-san,” Kusakabe said after finding Hibari lying on the veranda.

Hibari sat up, ignoring the dizzy feeling. “Yes, herbivore?”

Kusakabe hesitated, then held out the bag as an offering. “Here's the food.”

Hibari blinked at it, and for once didn't lunge at it like an animal. Kusakabe grew increasingly concerned. “Hibari-san, are you...feeling all right?”

Hibari waved him away, hand shaking. Kusakabe hesitated again, then placed a hand on his forehead. He was burning up.

“Hibari-san,” Kusakabe said, alarmed. He had seemed immovable and now – even Kusakabe knew that you should have medicine (after all, his mother always gave him some when he was ill).

Hibari allowed Kusakae to lead him to the front of the shrine, but when he kept going Hibari resisted. “No,” he gasped out. “Not...leaving.”

Kusakabe paused, considering Hibari. They were the same age, and yet Hibari didn't have a home to go to. Surely it couldn't be okay to-

“Go and come back,” Hibari demanded, and Kusakabe obeyed. Hibari was mature, and could survive.

* * *

When he returned Hibari was in the same position, dozing off. Kusakabe knelt and fumbled with the medicine had taken from home, then offered one to Hibari.

Hibari looked at them disdainfully. He had never taken medicine before, let alone pills.

“You swallow it whole,” Kusakabe said nervously.

Hibari stared at him, then grabbed the pill and swallowed. He then settled back and promptly ignored Kusakabe, falling asleep again. Kusakabe wavered, then sat down next to him. Hibari didn't threaten or maim him, so Kusakabe took that as a sign of acceptance.

* * *

Hibari got better rapidly, and Kusakabe started visiting each day to check up on him. Hibari pretended like he wasn't there, until one day, Kusakabe asked, “Why do you talk to the birds?”

Hibari jerked around. “They don't talk back.”

Kusakabe had to wonder what was wrong with Hibari.

* * *

Soon after Hibari got better, he followed Kusakabe home. When Kusakabe was in his room, Hibari jumped in through his open window. Kusakabe shrieked loudly, then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Hibari-san,” he hissed, “What are you doing here?”

“Tetsu,” a woman's voice called, “Is everything all right up there?”

“I'm fine,” Kusakabe called back in reply, then raised his eyebrows at Hibari.

Hibari, annoyed at this, whacked him over the head. Kusakabe winced at that, then sighed in resignation as Hibari lay on the floor. “Uh, you want a pillow?”

Hibari cracked an eye open. “Get one.” Kusakabe threw one at him, then found a spare blanket and handed him spare clothes. Hibari caught them deftly, then opened the door. Kusakabe lunged forwards, glaring at Hibari. “What are you doing?”

“Bathroom.”

“Not yet,” Kusakabe said frantically. “You have to-”

Hibari lashed out at him, throwing Kusakabe back. “Don't touch me,” he snarled, closing the door. “You could've made your point without that.”

Kusakabe raised his hands in surrender. “It's nearly dinnertime, so afte I eat I'll make sure to get you something.”

Hibari considered it, then nodded his assent, sitting cross-legged. Kusakabe breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped out of the room.

* * *

After Hibari had washed the near-infinite layers of dirt off his skin and had dragged a brush through his hair – a few twigs falling out in the process – he looked a new boy. Kusakabe was instantly jealous of how tidy he looked, dressed in a man's kimono and looking calm.

“Hibari-san,” Kusakabe said nervously, “I have a futon?” He offered the futon to him, like he was a deity. Hibari took it.

This continued on for a week, at least, before Kusakabe's mother walked in one day and found Hibari on the floor, studiously reading a magazine on cars. Kusakabe was lying on his bed, holding a gameboy over his head.

“Mum,” Kusakabe said, alarmed. “Um, this is-”

“I knew there was another person in this house,” she tutted, then smiled gently at Hibari. “Welcome.”

And for the next few months Hibari was a guest in the Kusakabe household. That gave him time to organise a plan to get his own accommodation, and a plan to get into Namimori Middle as well as securing a certain amount of power. Kusakabe was, of course, roped into these plans, but seeing as he was already a semi-delinquent, he didn't mind.

The first thing Hibari did was kill a grown man and move into his house. Kusakabe didn't know the man was dead, believing Hibari when he said the owner of the house was overseas. The man was not the owner – a woman was, and Hibari had blackmail material over her. How he got hold of this, Kusakabe didn't know, but was glad Hibari had his own place at last.

Hibari had also forged papers to get into Namimori Middle.

“Why do you want to go to school?” Kusakabe asked incredulously.

“To further myself,” was his reply. Again, Kusakabe accepted this. Hibari was a strange one.

* * *

It was through a series of fights that Hibari took control of the disciplinary committee, subjugating the school population. Whenever confronted, he would violently smack them down, announcing that he would bite anyone to death. Not even the teachers could stop him, and because of who his parents were, the authorities could not touch him.

“Shouldn't you tone down the violence?”

Hibari was genuinely confused. “What do you mean?” He then forced his expression into a look of lofty superiority.

“Well, most people aren't that violent.”

“Are you planning on leaving?” Hibari sniped, feeling uneasy at the prospect. He could never admit it, but Kusakabe was the only person he trusted (to a certain extent – Hibari would never, ever show him the photograph).

“Of course not,” Kusakabe said hastily, and Hibari shrugged.

“So what's the problem? This is how I always do things.”

And then Kusakabe finally understood why Hibari had been left at the shrine.

* * *

Almost everyday Hibari visited Namimori Shrine, protecting it. He took on whole gangs, and eventually, extended this protection to the rest of the town.

“Why not the people as well?”

“I hate crowds. And herbivores.”

Kusakabe dropped the subject after that, deciding to follow whatever orders Hibari gave him.

Hibari loved this town, although it wasn't his hometown. It had been good to him. He assumed it was love, but wasn't really sure. Could you love a place? But Hibari was a strange one, so that explained everything.

“You're amazing,” Kusakabe told Hibari one day. He didn't know what drove him to say that, but once it was out, he couldn't just stuff the words back in.

“Hn. In what way?” Hibari was lying on the roof languidly, his uniform pristine.

Kusakabe coughed into his fist. “Uh, just the way you used to be, and now, you're...” He waved a hand uselessly at Hibari.

Hr could've sworn Hibari was smiling when he told him to get off the roof and stop crowding the place.

* * *

When Kusakabe found out that the man was dead, he didn't really mind. He was used to that sort of thing at this point. Hibari would get him to hide bodies, or to deal with whatever crimes he had committed because, lo and behold, Kusakabe had a knack for that sort of thing.

“You are useful,” Hibari acknowledged one day, before returning to his work. And Kusakabe wondered why he felt so happy at the praise.

* * *

Hibari built up his empire, barely sparing a thought for his family – former family, because he didn't need one. Sure, he was the Cloud Guardian to Tsuna, and some may think he was part of his 'family', but Hibari disagreed.

He'll bite up the sky, he promised himself as he watched Tsuna run into class. Despite everything he had gone through – Mukuro, Varia, the future, and the battle with Shimon and Bermuda, he was still the same. Would Hibari have remained the same?

He fiddled with his tonfa, itching to fight Tsuna. He was strong sometimes, and weak other times, and it was fascinating. Tsuna was the opposite of what he thought of the world, weak and strong mixed into one. It shouldn't work, and yet...

The baby, also, was immensely strong. Hibari wanted to fight him, wanted to crush him, wanted to keep finding the strength in this world.

He sat down at his desk, opening the bottom drawer and lifting the false bottom. Not the best place to put it, but the very fact it was _his_ desk protected it. He stared down at his siblings. No, he couldn't ever-

“Hibari-san,” Kusakabe said, and Hibari, startled, slammed shut the drawer.

“What?” He asked coolly.

Kusakabe, now sixteen, studied him for a moment. “There's been more Yakuza activity recently. Do you want us to deal with it?”

Hibari smirked, rising and flicking out his tonfa. “I'll deal with it myself.” He was desperate for a fight, and taking on a whole gang by himself should do the trick. If not, he'd find Tsuna or the boss monkey and smack them down.

When he returned, triumphant yet again, Kusakabe looked anxious.

“What?” Hibari asked, this time sharply.

“Uh, well, there's been...activity? Around the shrine.”

Hibari frowned. “People don't normally go there.”

“They're just kids. They've...been there for a month now.” Kusakabe waited for Hibari to respond. All the head of the Disciplinary Committee said was, “I know.”

Kusakabe winced, then stopped. “Huh? You _knew_?”

“They're just kids,” Hibari said dismissively. “They shouldn't cause trouble.” A lie. They were _his_ siblings, after all, and entirely capable of destroying Namimori in the blink of an eye.

...He thought, but he wasn't sure.

* * *

But Hibari let down his guard. When he patrolling, he was very nearly spotted by them. He frowned, then jumped up onto the roof just as they turned the corner. There they were.

His little brother, with his hair cropped short, running ahead of his sister – he had good form, Hibari Kyouya noted, and was probably faster than most twelve year olds.

His sister, with long black hair tied back, looked uncannily like her twin brother. She was also looking healthy, and Hibari wondered if he would have bite some boys to death-

-No, no, no. They were another world now, far away from him. What were they doing in Namimori?

Hibari swallowed, surpressing his emotions. He didn't want a family, he told himself, wondering just how much he was lying to himself.

“Hibari,” a voice said behind him, and when he turned he saw Dino.

 _Good timing,_ he thought, preparing to beat him up.

* * *

He didn't expect them to find him so quickly. How?

It didn't matter, he decided, only that they were outside his door, whispering to each other. It was a different house – he figured the woman would eventually do something about his blackmail – and he bought this house with blood money.

Finally they rang the doorbell. Hibari set down his green tea, striding to the door. He wondered what they would say. And he pulled open the door-

“Are you Hibari Kyouya?” The boy blurted out, and the girl face-palmed. Hibari refused to name them, because that was the first step to caring.

Hibari tilted his head, and the girl seemed to shudder. “That is my name,” he confirmed, and they both brightened.

They were too shiny, too pure, too...un-Hibari Kyouya. _Please leave,_ he begged them silently, not allowing the desperation to show.

“Who are you?” Hibari asked, and he saw the world crashing around them.

The boy was bold, Hibari acknowledged as he said, “We're your siblings.”

Hibari arced an eyebrow. “I don't have siblings.”

“ka-kamikorosu,” the girl stuttered, eyes fixed on the ground.

Hibari sneered, determined to drive them away. He crouched down to their level – which wasn't really that short – and looked them both in the eye.

“The real Hibari Kyouya is dead,” he told them solemnly, watching as they entered disbelief. “You know my reputation, don't you? I killed him, because this name and identity suits me. So, _kamikorosu,_ you little brats.” He smirked at them, hating the way they looked...broken. No Hibari should do that, but their parents had kept them and left him for a reason.

Hibari straightened and slammed the door shut. He leaned against the door, breathing out slowly. They were crying, and then wailing, and Hibari sank to the floor, wondering why it hurt.

He could never let them in. he had too many enemies, too many men gunning for his head, and to top it all off he had the mafia world awaiting him. These children, they were herbivores.

When they had first wandered across the path of his cameras, Hibari had taken one look and just knew they would get hurt. They would get killed.

And that was why Hibari could never risk associating with them.

They were still at it. Hibari was so damn annoyed, but-

Why were they crying? There was no way they could remember him, so were they crying for their absent older brother? Were they crying for the past that could have happened, or the future that can never happen?

Hibari stood, placing his hand on the doorknob. But by that time they had left, and Hibari was alone yet again.

 _As it should be,_ he reminded himself. He didn't know if he was capable of love, or even if he was ever able to love in the first place.

Hibari went out to bite Mukuro to death.

* * *

**OMAKE:**

When Hibari was eighteen, his parents came to see him.

He didn't know it was them at first. By then he was head to Disciplinary Committee in high school, a natural progression. Tsuna was also attending, and Reborn still seemed to think Hibari was interested in being his subordinate.

So Hibari answered the door to his apartment, thinking that a salesman had dared to trespass. Instead, a couple stood there, the man in a suit and the woman in a dress, each looking severe.

“Yes?” Hibari asked, wondering how cold he should act.

“Kyouya-chan,” the woman said fondly, holding out her hands. Hibari only stared at her in disbelief as she cupped his face, studying him intently. “You've grown well.”

By reflex, Hibari smacked her hand away with a tonfa, then shoved her out of the apartment.

“Don't treat your mother like that,” the man barked, and it dawned on Hibari who these people were.

“Leave, herbivores,” he snarled at them, anger taking hold. He hadn't felt this way in so long, hadn't wanted to _kill_ like this since the time when Fon had turned back into an adult.

The man bristled. “We're here to bring you back, and this is how-”

“Cut the bullshit,” Hibari said flatly. Again, he refused to name these people, refused to label them with words. They were non-entities. They didn't matter to him. “I don't have a place to go back to.”

The man sighed while the woman whimpered, clutching her hand. Hibari moved to close the door.

* * *

They followed him to school, and in front of everyone, made a huge show out of it. Emotional blackmail, Hibari thought bitterly. How could they?

“Hibari-san,” Tsuna said, probably to spout some drivel about how he should accept them and all that. Hypocritical, if you asked him; Tsuna could barely stand to be in the same room as his father.

Hibari glared at the crowds, which scattered under his gaze. Then, with a disdainful look cast at his parents, he turned and walked away.

His mother rushed forwards, grabbing his shoulders. Hibari batted them away, hating the way they felt, like claws trying to drag him away.

He hated people. They smelled and were so needy. Everything – just – he hated _people._

“Go away, herbivore, or I'll bite you to death,” Hibari snarled, twisting away.

“Hibari-san,” Kusakabe said anxiously, wanting to jump in but not knowing how to help.

“You still say that,” the mother – no, the woman, remember that – cooed at him. Hibari felt physically ill at the sound of her voice.

“You're going to a good university,” the man was daydreaming.

“Yes, but not with any help from you people,” Hibari snapped at them, trying to convey his hatred through words. “Leave me alone.”

The man stopped, fixing his gaze on his eldest son. “How could you...?”

And for the first time in his life Hibari Kyouya felt rage. Pure, unbridled rage, expanding and rioting and demanding a release. The unfamiliar sensation made him think that the boss monkey felt this on a daily basis – if that was the case, then the boss monkey had incredible self-control.

Hibari drew his tonfas, snapping them at his parents. Whatever was contained in his eyes made them step back, Tsuna falling back with a shriek and Kusakabe wincing in pity at the poor couple.

“You left me,” he spat at them, struggling to keep his voice down. “You – You left me at that shrine, with nothing, and I had to survive. And now that I'm here, now that I _am_ something more than just a violent little boy, you want a part of it?” Hibari shook his head, smirking. “You're beneath herbivores. You're mere _ants_ I do not even deign to think about.” He would have spat at their feet, but refrained. Namimori first and forever. “Do not disturb the peace of Namimori with your disgusting presence,” he informed them, his fury cooling into an icy resentment. “If you do not leave within three hours I will bite you to death.”

And with that, Hibari Kyouya, Disciplinary Head, Cloud Guardian, swiveled on his heel and stalked away, Kusakabe chasing after him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot I ended up writing because of a convo on tumblr - dbzkhr27 (hence the gifting).  
> I would link to the posts, but...this was ages ago, and I'm lazy af.


End file.
